


This Particular Adventure

by grappel



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood, F/M, Slow Romance, Violence, drug addiction mention, lots of platonic feelings, lotsa guns, mostly friendship!, so super slow, unintentional romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1994073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grappel/pseuds/grappel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written as a way to document my particular playthrough of fallout, to explain my fascination with the only companion I've ever kept up with, and how I made a huge and emotional game about a ghoul NPC. All of the events that happen in story either happened to me in-game, or are a result of conversation and general headcanon with a friend<br/>Some dialogue and events are slightly altered for multiple reasons.<br/>For now this will only include base game quests, DLC events might be added later.<br/>! This work subject to constant change/editing !</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hired Help

The Lone Wanderer didn’t know what to expect when the faded and torn paper was pushed across the dented and stained bar in the Underworld. She picked it up with one hand, and with the other she pushed forward the hefty pouch of 2000 carefully counted caps without looking up. Her eyes strained to read the print, but the ink had either smudged or worn away with the rest of what felt to be a once stiff parchment. Only a few legible words remained, enough to make it count she supposed. ‘..loyalty to’, ‘combat’, ‘null and void if…’, and ‘violence’ were clear enough, the rest was legal jargon and a sloppy signature on the bottom. With a smirk she turned to the intimidating bouncer in the corner, and presented it with an expression of excited expectation.   
“Looks like you’re with me from now on, big guy.”  
His brow pulled together in confusion for a moment before replying,   
“You purchased my contract from Ahzrukhal? So, I am no longer in his service. That is good to know.”   
She nodded and began to fold the contract somewhere safe when she looked up and noticed Charon drawing his shotgun and checking the shell inside.  
“What’re you..?”   
The question died on her lips when she heard him mutter “Please, wait here for a moment. I must handle something.” As he passed, and she drew her breath in as it dawned on her what was happening. She watched in stunned silence as he looked down the sight of his gun and Ahzrukhal panicked and chattered nervously in an attempt to call him off.  
The shot resounded across the marble floors and silenced the entire Underworld. The other ghouls in the bar startled and turned to the noise, some running off immediately, others staring on in shocked silence.  
Ahzrukhal’s green and sunken face no longer existed; all that remained was his body, bleeding out on the bar and its floors. Charon nodded to the carnage, pleased with his deed.   
“You ready to go?” His comment pulled her stunned gaze from where there was once a man and to his nonchalant face.  
“Whoa! What the fuck was that?” 

“Ahzrukhal was an evil bastard. So long as he held my contract, I was honor bound to do as he commanded.”  
His glare was challenging, he was prepared to retaliate if she chastised him about the kill. When she remained silent still he relaxed only slightly and continued,   
“But now you are my employer, which freed me to rid the world of that disgusting rat.” Another pause, another silence and he continued on as if reading from a script.   
“And now, for good or ill, I serve you.” 

-

He stared down his new smoothskin employer, sizing her up, and deciding he had his work cut out for him. She was young, fresh faced, bright eyed, and from her shaky exhale and inability to keep eye contact with him for too long he could tell she had led a very sheltered life up to this point.   
The rest of the Underworld had babbled nonstop about their new smoothskin visitor when she first arrived, the one from the vault. Upon her arrival there were mixed reactions, the friendly ones quickly greeted her and a few even complimented her on her skin and full round face, the shy would nod and hurry out of the rooms she entered, and the sleazy muttered in distaste or made rude gestures while she wasn’t looking. From his corner of the bar he saw a little bit of all of it, and had heard plenty about just how much hair she had, and how round her cheeks were. If he had had to hear another ghoul wistfully describe her ears he would’ve punched something.   
No one was quite sure what she did, but whatever it was, it paid well. When Ahzrukhal had stated his ridiculous price she grimaced, but reluctantly pulled out her bag and began counting caps. Ahzrukhal’s eyes widened in surprise, he had expected the price to intimidate her enough to not pursue the topic any longer, but a deal was a deal, and she bought herself a bodyguard. Charon was initially convinced he had been signed onto the service of a drug runner or a slaver, but given her reaction to Ahzrukhal’s death and her obvious nativity he wasn’t so sure anymore. 

Once she shook off the shock of Charon’s first act under a new employer, she unsteadily nodded towards the door and left with him in tow.   
Outside she saw groups of ghouls eyeing the door suspiciously, drawing their own conclusions from the gunshot and the two leaving together.   
“We should probably leave before I draw any more attention to myself- us” she corrected with a quick glance to the Ghoul behind her. He didn’t respond, but she knew he was grateful when she made no stops or detours on the way out of the museum.  
Once outside, they both squinted against the glaring noon sun, an uncomfortable change from the gloomy and dim Underworld. Once the Wanderer’s eyes adjusted to the light she stretched her back and shoulders to ease her nerves, checked her guns, checked her pack, and sighed.   
“I really could’ve used a bit more ammo, but I’m not risking going back in there… not to mention I wouldn’t be able to buy a whole lot at this point anyway.”   
Charon remained silent, but confused. Why the hell did she sink 2000 caps into a bodyguard she didn’t even know, and could hardly afford?   
She looked up to his cloudy eyes with a concerned look, “Do you need anything? I don’t have a whole lot to offer, and I can’t get you much, but I’ll see what I can do.”   
He simply shook his head and looked across the Mall, wondering how she had even made it through the super mutants alive. Her armor was modest and sensible, but too thin to keep her alive in front of a mutant’s mini gun for long. There was an assault rifle strapped to her back, each part of the gun had different wear marks and scratches from being pieced together from countless other rifles, and while it seemed to be in good working condition it wouldn’t do nearly enough damage to fend off more than one mutie at a time.   
As he examined her gear, she folded up his contract and secured it into the pocket of her pants covered by her armor, it wasn’t the most secure place in the wastes, but it would have to do for now.   
“Here, atleast take some stimpaks.”   
He considered protesting, but figured her chance at surviving would be greater if he wasn’t dead, so he let her press them into his worn hand. Before he could put them into his own pack she was already digging something out again, and brought out a few boxes of shotgun shells.   
“Here, I’m sure you’ve got your own, but I won’t be using these anytime soon and I’d hate for them to go to waste.   
When she passed off the ammo, her short fingernails caught on one of the exposed tendons in his finger. She pulled her hand back with a horrified gasp, holding it to her chest.   
He felt the indignant spark of insult and scoffed, almost shoving the ammo back at her, he should’ve known such a young smoothskin would be disgusted by him.   
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t cut you or anything, did I?”   
She reached out again and gingerly turned his hand, looking for blood, a tear, or any sort of damage she was sure she had caused.   
“Relax, smoothskin, it will take a lot more than that to do any damage.”   
She pursed her lips together, concern still shadowing her face.   
“What? Did you think there would really be that many Ghouls around still if we were all soft veins and exposed nerves?”   
She crossed her arms and tilted her head in consideration, “I guess? I kind of just assumed you were all very careful.”   
He almost smiled and tucked the ammo and stimpaks away.   
“Here, look,” He held up his hand, rubbing and scratching the worst finger with the other hand until it was sore and the little remaining skin pulled back slightly, but it wasn’t bloody and was still securely attached to his hand.  
“See? Like scar tissue. Unless you’re Patchwork” He grimaced, “He’s been around for ages though”.   
His demonstration seemed to put her at ease, despite mentioning the poor falling apart Ghoul that could very possibly be his own future.   
“Well, that’s good. I was worried I’d have to be putting you back together all the time.”   
He blinked wordlessly, she should’ve been atleast as repulsed by the idea as he was, but she seemed only to be grateful that her sewing skills wouldn’t be regularly put to the test.   
The wanderer didn’t seem bothered at his lack of a reply, and he took a moment to wish that she would appreciate comfortable silence as much as he did. At the same time, she bit back all her other questions so as not to be seen as obnoxious or even a liability. There was a lot about ghouls, and the wastes, she still didn’t know, but hell if she was going to let him know that after the scene she had just made. She already knew that he would get frustrated with her, she could only try to lessen that aggravation as much as possible, and maybe if she was careful enough, he wouldn’t shoot her in the head too.  
After passing off another box of ammo she pulled her things together once again, inhaled deeply, and with a big stomp she dismounted the steps of the museum with her new companion behind her.


	2. Scientific Pursuits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly dry plot stuff to help set up, all the good characterization and important talks happen next chapter

They hadn't even gotten off the museum grounds before she stopped again. She rested her hands on her hips, inhaled deeply, and looked ahead as if she was admiring beautiful scenery. As he began to ask if she knew where she was, or where she was going, she blocked the sunlight with her hand and looked intently at the Washington Monument.   
“Ah, good it’s still there…” She muttered to herself.   
“The monument?”   
“The satellite dish, smartass.”   
He scoffed, but bit his tongue. If it had been anyone other than his employer he would've glared them down and gave them a very colorful threat for snapping at him like that, but she had almost said it out of endearment, and he didn't know how to respond to that.   
Once her survey of the mall in front of them was finished, she proceeded to the southeast. Once he saw how she traveled he understood how she had made it this far. She hugged the buildings, crouching whenever she didn't have cover, and walked carefully around anything that would've made any sort of noise. She must’ve snuck all the way through the mall, he realized, noticing the used up stealthboy still clipped to her belt. It was as infuriatingly tedious to him as it was necessary for her.  
Right as he began to wonder if she had had to exchange gunfire with a single Super Mutant while out here, she turned a corner and almost fell backwards in surprise. He saw her scramble for her rifle, and heard the growl of the mutant just around the corner. He had pulled out his own gun and stepped around the corner in front of her by the time she had a good grip on her own rifle.   
Once she began firing, Charon had already lodged three shotgun shells into the massive green torso. The mutant fell soon after, not being able to sustain both of their gunfire for long. The wanderer sighed in relief and immediately dropped her guard, putting a hand to her chest to ease her nerves as the pool of mutant blood spread almost to her still new looking boots.   
“Be careful,” he hissed, looking down the alley the mutant had emerged from, and back past his employer across the wastes. She was already raiding the dead body though, kicking aside the dropped hunting rifle and pocketing the few rounds strapped to the body’s chest.   
“It’s fine” She said, twisting her rifle onto her back once again, and he glared at her.  
“Will you be able to say that with a bullet lodged into the back of your skull? Did you even check to see if there were any others?”   
“Well, no, but-“  
He scoffed, cutting her off, but didn't say anything more. She was frustrating when she was careful and when she was careless. A part of him wondered if he shouldn't just carry her back to the vault where someone else could baby-sit her.   
“Look, we’re headed to Rivet City, and we’re almost out of the mall. There shouldn’t be too many more mutants this way for atleast a little while.” She twisted her arm out at an awkward angle so he could see the glowing green map on her pip-boy.   
“So, hopefully, you don’t need to worry about running into the business end of another green ugly’s rifle.” She remarked with a smirk.   
“It’s not me I’m worried about, it’s you. As my employer, it’s my job to protect you, and it seems as if you are going to use that for all it’s worth.”   
The wanderer crossed her arms and pursed her lips together again; she seemed to do that when she was upset.   
“Well-“ she started, but her cheeks tinted pink and she closed her mouth again, lost for words. She ended up muttering an apology and turned towards the path marked on her map.   
They travelled on as before, and only ran into one other super mutant, but this time it had seen the two of them from afar, and they had seen it before that. The wanderer got in both the first and last shot, and cast a gloating glance to Charon as the remaining bloody mess fell. He remained unimpressed.  
Once they were out of the mall Charon let himself relax slightly. His new employer hadn't proved to be too reckless, but it was obvious she had almost no idea what she was doing, and had the worst luck. Despite her exercise of caution she was overly trusting of her surroundings, and couldn't hear or see half of the potential threats that he did. Despite the escape from the immediate danger of the mall, they still had a sizable expanse of wasteland in front of them, and from what he’d gathered from her, she’d probably manage to find the only mine in the place and fall onto it face first.  
And so they traveled, he never holstered his shotgun and was kept on edge the entire time, and she remained blissfully unaware. Other than a few raiders and a vicious dog, they didn't run into much trouble, however.   
Just as the ghoul’s employer seemed to run out of energy, Rivet City came into view, and she perked up once again.  
Charon reminded her to be careful once again as he slowly tread up the steps that she practically bounced up to the bridge. As he ascended to the top of the dock after her, he saw her pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to a bearded man huddled next to the ledge. She gave him a sympathetic smile and shook her head when he explained that he had nothing to give in return.  
“It’s fine, really. Just don’t waste it, ok?” She gave him another one of her too-kind-for-the-wastes smiles and turned to Charon, who eyed the man warily. He seemed harmless, too weak to do any real damage and unarmed, but his ingrained protective instinct made him stand taller regardless.   
He glanced back to his employer to see her waving to the guards on the ship across from them. Right as she was about to call out to them he cleared his throat, which sounded akin to the symptoms of every respiratory disease at once and immediately caught her attention, and motioned to the intercom immediately to her left.   
“Oh, thanks…” She muttered, and pressed down the green button on the small console.   
“Um, hi, I’m here to-“   
“Welcome to Rivet City. Please wait while the bridge is extended.”   
She stepped back and huffed, insulted that she had been cut-off once again, as the large bridge creaked to life and swung towards them. Once it locked into place she walked towards the city with an almost indignant expression and arms crossed. Charon followed her with a much tenser posture, gun drawn, and trying to comprehend just how big the air-craft carrier turned town really was. It would be hell trying to find her in there if they were to get separated.   
“Wait right there!” A guard called right as she stepped off of the bridge, “What business do you have here?” his gun was in his hands, and pointed towards her, and while she kept her own rifle at her back Charon was obligated to greet the guard in kind.   
“I’m here to see Doctor Li.” She responded curtly.   
“Oh really? Because she doesn’t take visitors,” the guard was obviously uncomfortable, shifting his weight and glancing between the two quickly.   
“Look, I just want to talk to her for a minute, and do some trading. I promise not to cause any trouble.”   
He thought it over and then grumbled, “All right, I’ll have to take your word for it…” and lowered his rifle and nodded towards Charon.   
“What about him?”   
“Hm?” She turned to look at Charon, who still kept aim at the guard. She scowled at him and waved her hand, calling him off. “He’s with me.” She replied in an almost embarrassed manner.   
The guard looked irritated, but offered a small, uncomfortable smile.   
“Alright, well then, just follow the signs; they’ll get you where you need to go.” He directed. She nodded and waved her hand once again to Charon as she walked into the entrance. 

Once inside Charon followed his employer dutifully, perfectly loyal and silent, despite jogging down the same hallway three times as she walked in circles and continued to get herself lost.   
“You know, Charon, if you have any idea where we are, any direction at all would be appreciated!” She snapped. It was directed more towards the signs that seemed to mock her, out of frustration, but he pointed her in the right direction regardless. Despite never visiting the city himself, the signs were plenty self-explanatory, and the fact she struggled to grasp the concept of directions was as endearing as it was useful. After another ten minutes or so of following the signs, with Charon in lead, they entered the largest room they had found so far. The sign above the door labeled it as the lab, and people in white coats walked between the machines that hummed with energy on the floor below them. She gave Charon a sheepish smile and thanks before descending the stairs.   
Dr. Li wasn’t hard to spot, she approached them and scowled, obviously insulted by the presence of the filthy wasteland wanderers in her controlled and nearly sterile testing facility.   
“Look, this is a restricted area. I’m tired of telling you people…” Dr. Li began, but her eyebrows shot up in surprise once she made eye contact with the wanderer. “I… It’s you. My heavens, you look so much like him… You’re James’ daughter aren’t you? What are you doing here?”   
She motioned to the nearby table, pulling up a chair to sit across from her unexpected visitor. Once the two were seated Dr. Li glanced to Charon, who remained standing uncomfortably close to his employer’s chair, but she decided to let it be and returned to her conversation with the girl from the vault.   
“I’m looking for my dad, have you seen him?”   
Dr. Li sighed and sat back, “Yes, he was here earlier. He left just yesterday after making a ridiculous request that I had to turn down. You’ll have to excuse me, but I couldn’t just drop all of my work to return to that project, it had been abandoned years ago.”   
“Project?”   
“Project Purity, it was your dad’s project before you were born. But after your mother died, well, he only wanted what was best for you.”   
“I see… Wait. Do you know me?”   
“What? James never mentioned me?” She looked both irritated and disappointed,  
“I worked with your father before you were born, your mother too in fact. Project Purity was the most important thing in James life, aside from you and your mother that is.” What should’ve been a kind statement came out of her mouth sour, and the girl from the vault clenched her fists on her lap.   
“Speaking of, James said you were in the vault. What are you doing out here?”   
As if she was unable to answer the question in words, she scoffed and tilted her head back, searching the room for answers. “I left.” She stated flatly.   
“Oh?”   
“After dad left… it wasn’t safe anymore. I had to leave.”   
“I see. That's a shame. But I imagine you didn't come here to catch up with an old family friend."   
Dr. Li waited for a response, but was only stared down by the almost-clone of her dear friend. She had come to find her dad, only to find that he had jumped off somewhere else again. The girl that left the vault longed to know where he was this time, and she held the resolve to chase him down to the horizon if she had to. The woman that the wastes had shaped in this short time, however, dreaded the answer and dreaded the time and energy it would take to get her to him, only for there to be a chance that there'd only be another trace of him and a clue to his next destination. Or better yet, some other secret life passion and pseudo-relative she had never heard of before.   
“He’s at the Jefferson Memorial, that’s where the basin is, and all of the equipment. You should be able to find him there.”   
The girl stood and nodded, jaw tight, and a flush on her face. Once Doctor Li stood she shook her hand.   
“I’m sorry that there’s nothing else I can do…” Her voice was almost sympathetic.   
The wanderer gave her a sad smile, and hesitated.   
“You knew my mother?”   
“Yes. Your father loved her very much. Even though we didn’t always agree… She was a brilliant scientist.”   
Another nod and she turned to leave. She gave Charon a small pat on the arm as she passed him, for support, in disguise as direction.

Once they left the lab the threatening knot in her throat disappeared and the swelling in her eyes went down. She was grateful for her composure, partly because she didn't want to be seen as a child and partly because the swell in emotion confused her. Sure, she was concerned about her father, but she had made it this far without him, and everyday her resolve to find him weakened. It wasn't until Dr. Li mentioned her mother that she felt a twinge in her chest. But she was dead. She had been dead for years and there was still nothing she could do about that. With a shuddering inhale she looked for the nearest directory. When she reached to nudge Charon with her elbow again before she started walking, he flinched. He hadn't expected the touch last time, but he saw it coming this time, and instinctively he drew himself out of the way. His training taught him to stay out of the way, and once he had changed, the consequences of not abiding to that rule were much harsher.   
To his surprise she only chuckled and shook her head. "Look, you're making this silent communication thing really difficult."   
"What would you prefer I do?" He responded without thinking, rehearsed.   
"Whatever the hell you want?" She said with crossed arms and a look of impatience. He only grunted and looked ahead, both surprised and unsettled by her reply.   
The no-longer-lone wanderer rubbed her temples and considered how difficult it would be to pass his contract off to someone else. She had spent too much on it though, and already he had saved her life, so as uncomfortable and awkward as he could be, he was worth keeping around. Aimlessly she began walking, if for no other reason than to end the mess that was their conversation.  
Once she found the signs for the hotel, she followed them to the best of her ability, and Charon only had to steer her back into the right direction twice. Right before she entered the lobby of the hotel though she stopped short, furrowed her brow and dug out her makeshift pouch of caps. She silently rifled through them, making a rough estimate of how much were left.   
“Almost two-hundred…” She muttered.   
“That should be enough for a room.” The gravelly voice caused her to jump, he had been silent for so long she almost forgot he could talk, and how loud he could be.  
She gave him an almost coy smirk and gave him a quick look over, "I get that you're 'hired help' but I'm not looking for those services. I was going to get you your own room."  
Her response would've been almost cute if it hadn't been so blatantly dismissive  
“I can assure you that that was not my intention.” He replied dryly. While the idea wasn't completely unappealing, she was his employer, and was obviously not interested. When he found himself almost wishing that she had at least considered it he mentally kicked himself. She was his employer. Which didn't mean anything in this context, but it was quick to justify and he didn't question it to himself.   
“I’m used to going weeks without sleep, and I assumed I would be standing guard through the night.”   
She almost sputtered at the idea.   
“No. I don’t even know where to begin on that one..." She exhaled in exasperation, "I’m not Ahzrukhal, okay? You’re going to sleep as often as I do. Maybe not always at the same time depending where we are, but I think we’ll be perfectly safe in a locked room, in a city, that’s crawling with guards.”   
Her words put a sense of ease in him that he was unfamiliar with. While he knew that it should've been the insistence on his well-being that she expressed that he should be grateful, it was only the phrase 'not Ahzrukhal' that he cared about.  
“Besides,” She said with a coy smile, “Find myself in the compromising position of you staring at me while I sleep? I think not.”   
He sighed, having a female employer was difficult, though.   
“Fine. Then I shall sleep on the floor.”   
She furrowed her brows, not too pleased with that idea either. “Really? I don’t mind sharing a bed with you, as long as you remain dressed, and don’t kick me off in the middle of the night.”   
He scoffed, “I’ll try my best.” was the rehearsed answer that exited his mouth before he could think. How could he think? His chest was tight and every suspicious part of him distrusted his new employer immensely. Despite her innocence, something had to be wrong, a young smoothskin living in the wastes didn't invite anyone she didn't know extensively into her life, let alone a ghoul into her bed.   
She raised an eyebrow, “Was that… a joke? Charon, I’m surprised at you!”   
Charon almost looked personally insulted, “What?”   
She waved her hand, dismissing it. “Don’t worry about… I just hope your best involves pants.” Smiling to herself she left a confused Charon in the hallway to enter the hotel lobby and secure their room for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In apology for all of the technical stuff that had to happen this chapter, the next chapter will be almost entirely fluff


	3. Strictly Business

The blatant look of disgust from a female guard patrolling nearby was not lost on the travelling duo as the hotel room was unlocked. While it sparked indignation and frustration in the wanderer, her partner was grateful it had only been a look. He had, and still was, expecting much worse. Once his employer was in the room he latched the door behind himself, sealing the two in together.   
The girl from the vault dropped her pack and gun against the nearest wall and all but fell into one of the crooked metal chairs that decorated the room. To her surprise, the room was well furnished. The two metal chairs and table were only a little bent, but hadn’t rusted. If she had had more energy she would’ve admired the wooden bedframe, there was hardly anything wooden in the vaults, or the wastes in general, but at the moment what caught her eyes was the clean white sheets the bed was dressed with. Across the room, behind a flimsy looking door, was a bathroom, which had the first shower she had ever seen in the wastes.   
Despite her body crying out for a cold shower and a deep, long sleep, she still had one other thing to attend to. With an exaggerated yawn she motioned to the chair across from her, indicating that Charon join her, as he was still standing stiffly next to the door.   
He was tense until he was seated across from her, the table and the shotgun in his lap the only barrier between the two. He was sore and stiff from what might have been the most tense trip across the mall he had ever had the pleasure of embarking upon, but he was used to being sore, and retaining his tall and intimidating composure even now was not difficult.  
When the girl across from him leaned over to get something out of her pack again his fingers reflexively curled around his shotgun, although she had proved little to make him suspicious of her, he still didn’t fully trust her. What she pulled from her pack, though, was a welcome sight. Her unmarred hand conjured a glass bottle full to the neck of amber liquid.   
“Here, you look like you need this.” She said gently, holding it out to him.   
He took it from her slowly, flipping the bottle over in his own hands a couple times, before looking back up to her. She smiled sleepily, “Its fine, I mean, it probably tastes like shit but I didn’t poison it or anything, promise.” After that she dropped her chin to her hands on the table once again.   
“Okay then, ask away.”   
Charon gave her a quizzical look as he unscrewed the cap to the bottle. “Excuse me?”   
“You saved my life today, and if you do your job, you probably will countless times in the future. In exchange I am giving you alcohol and answers.” She replied, remaining slumped over the table with closed eyes. Once again, her unquestioning faithfulness in her surroundings worried him.   
He took a quick drink from the bottle, she was right, it tasted worse than the usual and the burn wasn’t nearly as strong as he hoped it would be. “You’re not obligated to tell me anything.” He explained.   
“Yeah, I get that. I’m not obligated to because of the contract right? But right now I’m talking to you as a partner, not an employer. I’m sure you have all sorts of questions.” The concept was new to him, but it was noble of her to try, he thought. He had had a couple of employers like this in the past, the first day or week they were a ‘friend’, but after tensions got high and they realized Charon would do nearly anything they told him to, those feeling of comradery quickly dissolved.   
He watched her shoulders rise and fall slightly as she talked, her closed eyes made it easier to look at her, he discovered. He did have a lot of questions, but he was so used to ignoring them, that now that she was asking about them his mind went blank. He took another drink, draining more of the whiskey from the dingy bottle in hopes to ease his nerves.   
“Your name?” The question surfaced without much thought. The girl across from him rolled her head as if the answer was something she had to consider, “Norma Haydeen.”   
He nodded slightly, even though she couldn’t see it.   
“And you’re looking for your dad?” She responded with an affirming grunt.   
“You’re from a vault?” He felt like an idiot when she opened one eye to look at him with the smallest hint of a smirk, “You sound like you’re on a bad date. You can ask more than ‘yes and no’ questions, you know.” He huffed and took another drink, the bottle much too small for his taste at the moment.  
With a sigh she sat up, stretched her back, and nodded. “Yeah, I’m really from a vault. Good ol’ 101. It was supposed to be closed forever, so when my dad managed to escape all hell broke loose. Long story short, the few friends I had are dead or hate me, my dad abandoned me, and I killed the Overseer.”  
“Overseer?” he crossed his legs and shifted his shotgun as the tensions slowly began to fade away, more from the ease of conversation than the weak excuse of whiskey.   
“The Overseer was our leader. ‘Thankyou, Overseer!’” She mocked with a quick roll of her eyes, “When my dad left he ordered that everyone who aided with his escape, and I, be killed. So I find myself running away from the people who used to protect me, carrying this beaten up old baseball bat, and a bb gun I had gotten as a kid.” A smile flickered onto her face for a second.   
“My friend, Amata, was trying her hardest to get me out of there, but once I had gotten out of familiar territory I got disoriented, and there were so many fucking radroaches.” She furrowed her brow, trying to piece together each part of the story in the right order. As she looked back on it, it felt almost as if it had all happened at once.   
“Somewhere along the line I find myself in the Overseer’s office, he’s got Amata in a chair and it looks like he’s interrogating her, and there’s a guard nearby with a gun, I…” she stared down intently at a dent on the table now, “I just remember seeing Amata look terrified, who can blame her, I had just bust in with a bloody baseball bat and radroach gore all over my clothes. But I saw her dad, the Overseer, and things went red. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until he was on the floor and the guard was shooting at me.”  
Charon leaned forward, resting his elbows on the small table, and was earnestly shocked that the girl he had seen giving away purified water as if it was nothing had beaten a man to death with a blunt bludgeon. Maybe there was hope for this poor smoothskin yet. Norma sighed and waved her hand, “There was also a thing about Butch and I ended up with a leather jacket that I immediately sold at a bar in Megaton. I spent those first caps on some basic necessities, and a single syringe of med-x.” She stared past Charon now, focusing at nothing in particular as she remembered that first, perfectly numbing dose.   
If Charon had been a man who smiled, it would’ve taken significant willpower not to do so. Her story was so ridiculous that if she wasn’t sporting that telltale haunted look of a person who had been through something traumatic, he wouldn’t have believed her. Instead of replying he looked down to his drink, a little less than half remained. “Megaton?” He looked back up at her, she only looked exasperated now. “Yeah, a GNR fan I’m assuming?”   
“Against my will, Ahzrukhal kept it on at all times.” The casual tone in his voice made Norma smile inwardly. Maybe he wasn’t an expressionless robot in guise as a ghoul, after all.   
“Yeah, I’m the ‘Lone Wanderer’ that disarmed the bomb there.”   
Charon nodded, “I figured as much,” he mumbled. He hadn’t pieced it together until her conversation with Dr. Li. He briefly thought about how discovering who his new employer was should change his opinion of her, but he wasn’t concerned with stories. He was much more concerned with the fact that her life was now his responsibility, and she was sat in front of him spilling her life story.   
“Honestly, I don’t understand why they let me do it. I mean, it was an incredibly easy process, but Simms’ didn’t trust the people that he had lived with to do it, but some random bloody girl in a vault suit comes wandering in and she is obviously the person for the job.” She scoffed and a smile lifted the corners of her mouth slightly as she made eye contact with Charon. He nearly choked on his drink and immediately looked away. He cursed at himself inwardly, using every insult he knew. He had looked a deathclaw in the eye before without flinching, but the second a smoothskin bats her lashes at him he felt as if his heart would stop.  
“Any more questions?” She asked, and he used the lull in conversation to recover, even though she was now intently staring him down. In the time he spent thinking she began to stand, but before she could push herself up he blurted out, “Why did you buy my contract?” in an almost panic. The longer he could delay the inevitable awkward moments of tonight, the better, even if it meant almost equally uncomfortable conversation. She sat back down and propped her head on one hand. “Honestly? I’m not too sure. I was doing pretty well by myself. I ran little odd tasks, and not so little odd tasks.” She nearly shuddered when she remembered some of Moira’s experiments. “I was in the mall to replace one of the satellite dishes on the Washington Monument for Three Dog, in exchange he told me where my dad was. I almost died twice.” He couldn’t help his scoff, which rewarded him with an accusing glare. “Yeah I know big surprise there. But while I was running around the mall I remembered what a friend back in Megaton told me about the Underworld. His mom lived there apparently, and I decided that I’d pay a visit since I was in the neighborhood, and I really needed to load up on supplies again before heading out here.” Charon glanced back down to his drink again, less than a quarter, and he was finally feeling the faintest of the effects of it. “Carol is a sweetheart, I’ll have to let Gob know she’s doing well if I ever make it back to Megaton.” There was an almost homesick look in her eyes for the rickety hellhole, “I actually wandered into the 9th Circle on accident, I had no idea what it was, and I figured I’d atleast poke my nose in all the little holes and corners before I left. After all the people in the Underworld are the nicest I’ve come across so far.” He faltered for a moment as he lowered the near empty bottle to the table, she just called them people, not ghouls, he realized.   
“So I find myself in that sketchy-ass bar, and for the first time since I had gotten there I didn’t feel safe… Oh don’t even give me that look, you are a big motherfucker and you stared me down like I had walked in and insulted you!” Charon was taken aback, from both being called a ‘big motherfucker’ and because of her obviously empty accusation of giving her a look. He did not ‘give looks’. That comfortable smile played onto her lips again.   
“In an attempt to make conversation with the seedy guy who didn’t understand how eye contact worked I asked him about you, and, I don’t know.” She looked Charon up and down again, sizing him up, making judgments, and overall making him incredibly uncomfortable again with the thoughtful look in her eyes. It wasn’t a purely objective survey, there was something else in way she eyed his leather clad figure. “It was an impulse I guess you could say. The idea of a big tall guy with a shotgun at my back seemed very appealing at the time, in the middle of a bar where everyone kept making eyes at me, and the mall outside.” She broke her gaze and stretched, once her eyes were off him he drained the bottle empty and set it to the side. “Well, you know the rest of the story. Thoughts? Comments?”   
He stared at the ceiling, considering his options, and decided to ask one last question even though he feared he would be pushing her tolerance. Her loose and nonexistent guidelines made things intimidating; he almost preferred it with the employers that kept him to a tight schedule and guidelines for behavior.   
“I’m a ghoul.” He said, it wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t what he meant to say, but he wasn’t a man of words and he wasn’t sure how else to put it. She blinked at him. “Yeah. You sure are, and it’s pretty hard to miss.” He lowered his gaze back to her, just short of a glare.   
Norma remembered the look the guard had given the two of them. She laughed. It was a genuine laugh and a genuine smile that made Charon’s glare dissolve into an almost longing stare, he had forgotten how pretty a smoothskin’s laugh was. “I can honestly say that of all the things I’ve come across so far, all the super mutants and raiders, a near seven foot, contract bound, ghoul that can drink an entire bottle of whiskey as if it were nothing, is the scariest thing I have seen. I can’t even begin to explain how relieved I am that you’re on my side, because if I had ever come across you in the wastes with your gun pointed at me, I would’ve just given up then and there.” Rather than commenting on the fact that all ghouls had a strong resistance to drugs, he let himself soak up her words as if they were the welcoming tingle of radiation. Despite the negative connotation, she had said them in praise.   
“Look, Charon. You are no less of a person because you are a ghoul. You are different, hell yeah, you’re ugly as hell, but so is everything else around here, and you don’t look like the kind of man who is validated by people calling him pretty.” She stood, placed her hands on the table and leaned forward to emphasis how important her next words were. He stared back at her, unflinching, almost challenging, but she didn’t falter.   
“You are just as important as every other person out here, and you have the same right to the very few things this world has to offer.” She kept her dark brown eyes locked onto his cloudy blue ones until one of them blinked. He remained passive, expressionless, and she lost. She stood suddenly and pulled her hair down from its tangled knot quickly.  
“I’m going to shower.” She said abruptly, and closed herself away in the cramped bathroom.  
Despite the bad case of the shakes that had taken over, she resolved that she wouldn’t regret what she had said. A nagging fear ate at her as she turned the shower on. What if she had actually offended him and ruined whatever chance she had at making things atleast a little more comfortable? With a loud sigh she began to undo the buckles and clasps of her armor, placing each piece aside carefully. When all the outer armor was removed she pulled out and unfolded her newest investment. She read what she could three times over, but gained no new insights into her companions psyche. She folded up the contract and put it back in its place, and as she undressed she decided to make a mental list of what she did know about Charon.   
She started with what she learned at the Underworld. He was really fucking big, his angry stare nearly made her wet herself, and he was very good with a shotgun.   
Now naked she cupped her hands under the running water, it wasn’t clear, but it had a pleasant chill to it and it didn’t have a smell. She took her time stepping into the shower, letting the spray drench her hair and wash away the salt and grime. Once the goosebumps from the cold water went down her mind wandered back to the ghoul in the next room.   
In the mall she learned that either he’s had some sort of formal training, or he’s been in the wastes for a long time. Considering his contract and the little she knew about ghouls, it very well could be both. He’s almost always on edge it seems, but she assumed that’s probably because he’s technically always working. Also, it doesn’t seem like he liked her a whole lot.   
Norma held her breath and put her face under the water, using her fingers to scrub her scalp and work all of the knots in her hair loose. It wasn’t often, but at moments like this she missed the luxuries of the vault, like shampoo and soap.   
Finally, here at Rivet City, she learned that he had a good sense of direction, he would rather sustain some sort of formality at the sake of awkwardness for some unforeseen reason, and most importantly, he seemed uncomfortable with the fact that his new contract holder isn’t a ghoul. Or maybe it was that he was uncomfortable with the fact that he was a ghoul? She couldn’t exactly tell, but there was some sort of dynamic between the two that kept them either too formal or frustrated. On top of that, his lack of communication skills would ensure that she might never know how what he actually thinks about anything.   
After rubbing down every part of herself twice, and going over her list a couple more times, she no longer had any reason to stand in the shower, and she forced herself to turn the water off and step out of the shower. She toweled herself off as best as she could with the thin and slightly torn towel provided and dressed in her plain underclothes, undershirt, and the pathetic excuse of shorts she had turned her vault suit into. Before she opened the door again she remembered Charon’s contract, and it just didn’t feel right to leave it in the pocket of her pants if she wasn’t wearing them. After some consideration she ended up tucking the paper into the waistband of her clothes, and tried not to think about how something Ahzrukhal had handled was pressed against her skin.   
Before she could worry herself anymore she gathered her armor and opened the door to the room. Charon was still seated where she had left him, but other than glancing at him in her peripheries she didn’t look at him, suddenly very conscious of the way the cold air hit her exposed chest and legs. In silence she stacked her armor next to her pack.   
She kept her eyes down, playing it off as fascination with a scratch in her leather armor while she spoke, “I’m actually kind of surprised you’re still here.” She said, which wasn’t necessarily a lie, she just hadn’t realized it was something she was worried about until now. While things weren’t exactly easy with him around, she realized that she would be terrified in this hotel by herself at nighttime, and there was a part of her that was grateful for his presence.   
“You didn’t say I could leave,” He replied dryly, falling back into his script.   
“I… I didn’t know I had to? I mean, I don’t mind. I’m not holding you captive. You can go where you want so long as you come back.” She risked a glance at him and almost immediately regretted it, he looked infuriated. She resisted the urge to apologize, but found herself stuck. He wasn’t moving, and she wouldn’t be able to lay down with him just sitting and staring like that. Just as she began to worry how much longer she’d be able to get away with fiddling with her armor he stood and crossed the room, she half expected him to leave, but rather than hearing the heavy metal door to the room swing open she heard the light catch of the door to the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sudden change in length, but I plan for the rest of the chapters to be about this long, anything from about 2,500-3,500 words a piece

**Author's Note:**

> Mandatory ghoul-texture headcanon  
> Also, rushed intro because I'm assuming you've both played the game and read plenty of other Charon fics to know what goes down during that bit


End file.
